James is still small....and even though he won't be for long, I'm gonna enjoy it while I can.
Peter and William are getting huge! William just celebrated his tenth birthday! The two big boys are both double-digits now, and I am so proud of the young men they are becoming. They are also really big for their ages. Peter is now taller than me. Have I written that yet? It was a big deal to me and to him. Or we are at least the same height. But he may be taller. How strange that after just eleven and 3/4 years on this planet he has grown at least as much if not more than I have in 39. And he is maturing faster than his friends. And he is praying and seeking the Spirit and making great choices. I am so proud of him.
William is ten. He had a wonderful birthday, I think. He loved the zoo with Sam on Thursday and he loved the zoo with my mom and Stan on Monday. And Sunday, his actual birthday, we did basically whatever he wanted. He opened presents and played games, we watched conferences, and Ryan played his new video game (about dinosaurs and survival) with him, as well as lots of Minecraft. And then we had a dinner of pot stickers, and a party with cake and caramel ice-cream and lots of presents from extended family members. He got everything he wanted and then some. And he was so darling and grateful and sweet. He is a joy of a ten-year-old, and he seems even a bit older than that.
And James is 7, but can still fit into pants he wore when he was 5. He is the smallest in his class, except for Winnie (a girl).
He is super smart, and very mature for his age in lots of ways. He could easily skip second grade and thrive in third. He has lots of friends at school, and lots of girls who like him, and toss their (pink) hair at him ("because he likes it!"), and even give him quarters if they have them. I don't blame them. He's the nicest, smartest kid in the class, and very funny, and his mom comes to the class on Tuesdays and she's pretty nice and smells like marshmallows (or so I was told, yesterday by the pink-haired girl who really likes James).
But in spite of all this, he still seems young. I can still easily scoop him up and hold and carry him. I can twirl him around when he runs and gives me a big hug...just like he did every day after pre-school. And he still does things little kids do. Today at breakfast we were eating whole-grain waffles (which are really tasty if you haven't had the other kind for a while, which the boys haven't). And James asked, "What is a mummy's favorite food?" And we guessed and guessed and had lots of good ideas. But when we gave up, he told us....
"Wrapples! Like waffles, but wraps, cause it's a mummy!"
His brothers were unimpressed, but I laughed and I love that he makes up silly jokes and doesn't know that they are made funny because they are his.
Last week as we were driving to school he had a very serious look on his face, and he asked me, "Mom, how do wishes work?"
I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, so I asked him if he was talking about birthday wishes, or dandelion wishes, or shooting star wishes, and he said, "All of them. Just how do they work? Because I never get what I wish for."
I didn't start crying then, but I wanted to. It reminded me of when William was about four and he was in the back seat of the van and let out a sad sigh and said simply, "I can't fly."
I told James that wishes are sometimes things we need to work for....and I asked him what he usually wished for.
"That everyone can have everything they want always."
Wow. This doesn't surprise me. He is not selfish in his wishing. This is the kind of thing I would have wished for at his age.
I still often make wishes...at 11:11, or when we go through a yellow-light, or cross a railroad track. And definitely when I lose an eyelash, see a shooting star, or blow out birthday candles. I love making wishes. and usually I wish that me and my family can be happy, and healthy, with strong testimonies of Jesus Christ. It's a big wish. And I work for it, but can't, of course control every aspect of it, so there is a bit of real pleading in the wish.
"Maybe if you tell me your wishes, I can help them come true, James. And remember that wishes are different from prayers."
"I know."
"I still make lots of wishes, because I think it's fun. But yeah, I don't get everything I wish for either. It's a chance to think about what you want most...at that moment."
It sounds lame, even to me. But he stops looking so serious and he and William start talking about what they are going to build on Minecraft when they get home from school....something with dinosaurs and explosives.
This may be the last year he believes in Santa Claus, and the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny, and the Leprechauns that I sort of accidentally led my children to believe in....
And I'm going to enjoy it and keep giving him those big scoop-him-up-and-twirl-him-
William is ten. He had a wonderful birthday, I think. He loved the zoo with Sam on Thursday and he loved the zoo with my mom and Stan on Monday. And Sunday, his actual birthday, we did basically whatever he wanted. He opened presents and played games, we watched conferences, and Ryan played his new video game (about dinosaurs and survival) with him, as well as lots of Minecraft. And then we had a dinner of pot stickers, and a party with cake and caramel ice-cream and lots of presents from extended family members. He got everything he wanted and then some. And he was so darling and grateful and sweet. He is a joy of a ten-year-old, and he seems even a bit older than that.
And James is 7, but can still fit into pants he wore when he was 5. He is the smallest in his class, except for Winnie (a girl).
He is super smart, and very mature for his age in lots of ways. He could easily skip second grade and thrive in third. He has lots of friends at school, and lots of girls who like him, and toss their (pink) hair at him ("because he likes it!"), and even give him quarters if they have them. I don't blame them. He's the nicest, smartest kid in the class, and very funny, and his mom comes to the class on Tuesdays and she's pretty nice and smells like marshmallows (or so I was told, yesterday by the pink-haired girl who really likes James).
But in spite of all this, he still seems young. I can still easily scoop him up and hold and carry him. I can twirl him around when he runs and gives me a big hug...just like he did every day after pre-school. And he still does things little kids do. Today at breakfast we were eating whole-grain waffles (which are really tasty if you haven't had the other kind for a while, which the boys haven't). And James asked, "What is a mummy's favorite food?" And we guessed and guessed and had lots of good ideas. But when we gave up, he told us....
"Wrapples! Like waffles, but wraps, cause it's a mummy!"
His brothers were unimpressed, but I laughed and I love that he makes up silly jokes and doesn't know that they are made funny because they are his.
Last week as we were driving to school he had a very serious look on his face, and he asked me, "Mom, how do wishes work?"
I wasn't sure exactly what he meant, so I asked him if he was talking about birthday wishes, or dandelion wishes, or shooting star wishes, and he said, "All of them. Just how do they work? Because I never get what I wish for."
I didn't start crying then, but I wanted to. It reminded me of when William was about four and he was in the back seat of the van and let out a sad sigh and said simply, "I can't fly."
I told James that wishes are sometimes things we need to work for....and I asked him what he usually wished for.
"That everyone can have everything they want always."
Wow. This doesn't surprise me. He is not selfish in his wishing. This is the kind of thing I would have wished for at his age.
I still often make wishes...at 11:11, or when we go through a yellow-light, or cross a railroad track. And definitely when I lose an eyelash, see a shooting star, or blow out birthday candles. I love making wishes. and usually I wish that me and my family can be happy, and healthy, with strong testimonies of Jesus Christ. It's a big wish. And I work for it, but can't, of course control every aspect of it, so there is a bit of real pleading in the wish.
"Maybe if you tell me your wishes, I can help them come true, James. And remember that wishes are different from prayers."
"I know."
"I still make lots of wishes, because I think it's fun. But yeah, I don't get everything I wish for either. It's a chance to think about what you want most...at that moment."
It sounds lame, even to me. But he stops looking so serious and he and William start talking about what they are going to build on Minecraft when they get home from school....something with dinosaurs and explosives.
This may be the last year he believes in Santa Claus, and the Tooth Fairy, and the Easter Bunny, and the Leprechauns that I sort of accidentally led my children to believe in....
And I'm going to enjoy it and keep giving him those big scoop-him-up-and-twirl-him-
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